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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354016">Drabbles I'll probably never write</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesDrabbles/pseuds/JesDrabbles'>JesDrabbles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV), Miraculous Ladybug, X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, F/M, Gen, M/M, Slash, aufics, crossovers, drabblefics, never complete</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:13:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesDrabbles/pseuds/JesDrabbles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fics I'll probably never get around to writing fully. Mostly summaries or bullet point thoughts</p><p> Includes Merlin, Ladybug, X-men, and whatever other ideas catch my attention.  Mostly ideas that popped up from songs I've heard.</p><p>If anyone wants to adopt the concept, just message me and so I can read them! </p><p>Linup: </p><p> 1) Modern Ladybug and Cat Noir Princess bride: Modern Princess Marinette and the dread vigilante Cat Noir</p><p>2) Merthur Anastasia: Arthur the amnesiac and Merlin the gypsy (Anastasia musical base)</p><p>3) Merthur Princess bride: Prince(ss) Arthur and the Dread Sorcerer Emrys</p><p>4) Merthur Swan Princess </p><p>5) Cherik: the Count and the doctor (Count of Monte Cristo Erik and Dr. Jekyll Charles) </p><p>6) Merlin: The Quest for the Dragonlords (Into the unknown)</p><p>7) Frozen rewrite: because it drives nuts</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Merthur Anastasia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fics I'll probably never get around to writing fully. Mostly summaries or bullet point thoughts</p><p> Includes Merlin, Ladybug, X-men, and whatever other ideas catch my attention.  Mostly ideas that popped up from songs I've heard.</p><p>If anyone wants to adopt the concept, just message me and so I can read them! </p><p>Linup: </p><p> 1) Modern Ladybug and Cat Noir Princess bride: Modern Princess Marinette and the dread vigilante Cat Noir</p><p>2) Merthur Anastasia: Arthur the amnesiac and Merlin the gypsy (Anastasia musical base)</p><p>3) Merthur Princess bride: Prince(ss) Arthur and the Dread Sorcerer Emrys</p><p>4) Merthur Swan Princess </p><p>5) Cherik: the Count and the doctor (Count of Monte Cristo Erik and Dr. Jekyll Charles) </p><p>6) Merlin: The Quest for the Dragonlords (Into the unknown)</p><p>7) Frozen rewrite: because it drives nuts</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adrien as Wesley<br/>
Mari as buttercup</p>
<p>Adrien leaves, Mari thinks he died, becomes a superhero for the city after becoming betrothed to some maybe rich guy. Does it to save the family bakery or something. </p>
<p>Adrien comes back, gets heartbroken/pissed and plans to get her back. </p>
<p>Maybe there was a plot that requires Adrien being dead, so that’s why he hasn’t come forward with his identity, (sounds more monte Cristo but this is a good meld. A bit evil company basic but workable) so maybe he was planning on just telling Mari, only to find she was marrying someone else. </p>
<p>Meets her on the street in hero persona or something where they get into a conflict. Hate at first sight for humor; they’ve both changed due to events leading to moment. She's grasping at any small freedom she can get, he’s angry and planning his comeback. Maybe right before she gets abducted they have a heart to heart and a small part of him thinks maybe in consideration of moving beyond Mari. </p>
<p>Then Marinnete is abducted by rival co. Or something, and he immediately reorients around saving her. Maybe tries to contact Ladybug to help -obviously she never responds - so he goes to do it himself. Identity shenanigans ensue, because it's not a good fic unless they're idiots. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Potential scene:</p>
<p>‘This woman reflects who he’s become; they’re both bitter souls who’s lost everything. Ladybug was strong, treated him as an equal in a way that reminded him of how he and Mari were at one point.'</p>
<p>Adrien swung down from the rooftop onto a gray wicket ladder. Without a glance he smoothly slid down the worn frame, barely grasping the familiar poles that rasped under his hands. He kicked off the latter onto a side-door balcony, and casually walked to the railing barring him from the ground below. </p>
<p> The city splayed below his small balcony in every direction, with the shadows stretching  out from the dark side of every sunlit building. His eyes traced the dark patches reaching across rooftop, carefully steering away from the shining ridges of the Eiffel Tower that tugged at his periphery. </p>
<p>Could he really go back to the girl who left him behind so easily?'</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Based on the songs from the Anastasia musical/movie, with plenty of creative liberties. </p><p>Backgroung:  Arthur escaped the sorcerers revolution by falling into a river, somehow surviving and eventually ends up in an orphanage. Everyone thinks he's dead, he lost his memories, and Morgana was the only known survivor of the Pendragons. Merlin grew up with them, and eventually left Camelot after Arthur died to join a troup of gypsies. It was too painful to stay. Morgana is the only one who thinks Arthur somehow survived. </p><p>Story starts with Arthur - now Archer - leaving the orphanage to go find work in town where he's torn between going to find Camelot (or Avalon, depending where he is) (que journey to the past) when he finds a flier promoting the amazing Druid Circus show, featuring amazing sorcerer extraordinaire Merlin. (Journey to the past scene)</p><p>Archer takes that as a sign to see if this "unknown sorcerer" Merlin can get his memories back (hasn't tried it before since there really isn't any magicians around these parts, and takes off the circus.</p><p>Makes it to the "big city" for the first time, here's a bunch of rumors how the Lady Morgana is offering a shitload of cash in return for her cousin Arthur's safe return. Some people are like "what an opportunity!" Other's are like "It's a bunch of dragon shit, the prince died with the royal family during the revolution, the duchess is delusional." </p><p>Which Archer completely ignores as he asks around for directions to the show. He makes it just in time to sit in the back, and watches Merlin do a lovely magic act.</p><p>Then Merlin does something that Archer calls bs on - likely trying to sell a vial of "magic potion" that doesn't actually do anything, they have a tit-a-tat, then Merlin wraps up the show in a huff. Archer ambushes him in his personal tent later.  The arrogant prat plops himself in one of Merlin’s cushy bean bag sack things, explains his problem, and says if Merlin doesn’t want Archer to turn him in for exploiting the public, he’d better help him. </p><p>Merlin scowls at him and says he isn’t sure he even can help, he’s not exactly well versed in mental arts. But Archer is Archer and doesn't take no for an answer. </p><p> </p><p>Potential scene:</p><p>---</p><p>Archer made a face, and the way his nose crinkled in baleful, stubborn displeasure suddenly struck Merlin with aching familiarity. It was just like how Arthur used to crinkle his nose, back in the day, whenever Uther told him he couldn't ride his horse in the rain. Archer also had the same tilt to his eyes, pale and piercing, that promised he'd dig his heels down deep into the earth until he got his way.  The whole image was like a flash of the past, morphed into a cruel projection of what that expression would have looked like on an older Arthur; an Arthur who had never disappeared in a river. One who'd never died. </p><p> The thought hurts, but it wasn't the first time he'd seen an Arthur look-alike.  Merlin didn't go chasing after shadows the way he once did, when Arthur had just died, and Morgana's ridiculous dreams of him surviving still gave Merlin hope. It didn't matter that Archer's eyes were pale like a thawing patch of lake, or like the sky on the first day of spring. It didn't matter that they were a shade that Merlin hadn't seen anyone else have. </p><p>It didn't matter.  Merlin refused to chase a ghost.</p><p>Merlin's scowl deepened and he planted his hands on his hips. </p><p>"Just because I'm a magician doesn't mean I can help you. Very few know to handle the arts of the mind - I could very well boil your brain by accident."</p><p>Archer scoffed, and crossed his arms. <br/>“So that’s another thing you’re pathetic at, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”</p><p>Merlin's chest began to puff up with all the insults building in his chest, his face going red. Archer raised an eyebrow, and Merlin’s mouth twisted like he'd tasted a sour lemon mixed with horseshit. He forcefully exhaled and stomped forward to the tiny table Archer was seated behind.  He dropped himself harshly in the opposite chair, planting an elbow on the table and smushing his fist into his chin. Archer didn't move, instead continuing to glare at him with icy eyes. </p><p>They sat there, silent, glaring at each other. Neither moved, and both of them refused to break and blink first. They didn't know how long they sat there, but it was long enough for Merlin's elbow to cramp and Archer's eyes to burn. </p><p> Finally, Merlin began to tap his thin fingers against the table. </p><p>“What’s to stop me from just scrambling your brains and leaving you as a brain dead buffoon? You’re already a prat, I doubt your blond head would save you from the asylum.”</p><p>Archer raised a condescending brow.</p><p>“Considering I’m friends with the constable, I doubt that it would end well for you. Perfectly fine in the morning, only to visit the only sorcerer in town and suddenly be a fool? Not many conclusions to be drawn from that.”</p><p>Merlin’s mouth twisted further, and Archer’s heart trembled with the lie.  Merlin, for all his deceptive ways, seemed gullible. As long as Archer was careful and only stayed long enough to get what he needed, he could be out of town before Merlin even tried to check his lie. </p><p>Merlin sat there, tapping his fingers and glaring at him.  Archer could practically hear him chewing over his options. It took all of Archer's self restraint to keep his face impassive, despite the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. The seconds dragged on. </p><p>Finally, Merlin broke with a disgusted 'tsk', and pushed back from the table.  He stood, and dragged his chair around the table to sit right in front Archer. He sat back down and held out his hands, gesturing for Archer to lean forward impatiently.</p><p>“Stupid prat. I truly am not well versed in this, so if you're brain does get scrambled it’s your own fault.”</p><p>Archer slowly exhaled in relief and leaned his head forward.  He could feel his own hands trembling. “Just get on with it.”</p><p>Merlin’s fingers twitched with irritation, but were surprisingly gentle as he placed them over Archer’s temples. They were warm, and Archer couldn’t help but relax his shoulders as they subtly carded through his hair. </p><p>They both closed their eyes. Suddenly, Archer’s face felt warmer then he could ever recall it being. Tendrils of warmth seeped from the fingers, chasing away, just for a moment, the chill that never left Archer. It seeped deeper and deeper, past his temples and skin like heated water into his very mind.  For a moment, Archer felt like he finally understood what the word 'home' meant.</p><p>But then the moment ended, and flickers of fire flashed behind his eyelids. Screams echoed in his ears, building louder and louder until a blinding flash of white light burst in between them.  Archer and Merlin were blasted apart; Merlin falling with a shriek off his seat, and Archer shoved back into the sack cushions. </p><p>They lay there, stunned, before Merlin grumbled and cursed as he rolled over to sit up, while Archer stared dazedly up at the tent’s colorful ceiling. He vaguely heard Merlin cursing grow louder as he gingerly shook out his hands, blowing at his fingers like they had been dipped in boiling water. </p><p>Archer slowly sat up, pressing a cool hand against his head. The chill seemed to seep from his fingers back into his head, sapping away the only bit of heat Archer had felt in at least a decade. His ears rang with the haunting echoes of screams, and his vision was blurrily clouded with sputtering flames.</p><p>“What just happened?” He said hoarsely. He realized with a start that his throat was raw from his own scream. </p><p>“That, that was what happens when I listen to prattish blonds and dabble in magics I’m not trained to use!” Merlin spat. “Gods, I knew it was a bad idea, but did you listen? No, and now your brain is probably boiled beyond recognition and the constable is going to come to toss me in prison - or worse, check my papers, all because of a pretty pair of blue eyes and oafish manners-” </p><p>“I don’t think I’m boiled.” Archer said. Archer’s vision cleared as Merlin scoffed and got to his feet, still shaking out his hands. Archer noticed, with a pang of guilt, that Merlin’s hands were actually singed, the tips slightly blackened with what looked like soot marks. </p><p>He glanced up at Merlin guiltily, “Sorry, does that hurt?” </p><p>Merlin gave him a baleful look, “What do you think?”</p><p>  Archer's guilty expression deepened, and Merlin looked away with a 'tsk'. Without another word he stepped forward  rested a trembling palm on Archer’s forehead. His forehead heated, and Archer winced as the warm tendrils seeped back into his skin. Merlin patted his shoulder distractedly. </p><p>“No worries, not as deep this time. Just making sure you won’t actually turn into a mindless buffoon.” Merlin said. The warmth seemed to circle around the edges of Archer's mind, lightly probing and prodding, but never going any deeper than that.  </p><p>Archer blinked in surprise, and glanced up at Merlin's face only to blink again when he say Merlin's eyes actually turn gold.  Gold as a summer sun glinting off a wheat field, or glinting off a river. Gold, somehow as familiar as the chill in his fingertips. </p><p>"I'll meet you right there," that old voice whispered. "I'll meet you right there. Camelot."</p><p>Merlin's hand swept up from his forehead to card through Archer’s hair, and just as quickly as tendrils had come, they retreated, slipping out of his mind and out of his skull as easily as water slipping off a drying leaf, leaving Merlin's hand as the last source of heat. Archer blinked again as Merlin’s eyes faded back to blue, and the hand lifted from his hair. They stared at each other thoughtfully, then Merlin looked at his hand. </p><p>The fingers were no longer singed; instead they were as pale and unblemished as if the shock had never happened.</p><p>“How strange.” Merlin said quietly.</p><p>“What?” Archer asked. He wasn’t actually going to go brain dead was he? </p><p>Merlin blinked at him, then seemed to shake himself out of his stupor,  “Nothing, nothing." </p><p>He swept around to pick up his fallen chair. He plopped himself into it with crossed arms, and grinned at him wryly. </p><p>“Well congratulations, prat. You’re not brain dead, and you can successfully say you dabbled with magic you had no business touching. How's the head? Remember anything?”</p><p>The screams echoed in his ears again. Archer bit his lip and shook his head. “No.”</p><p>Merlin huffed in disappointment. </p><p>“Well, that venture was for nothing, then." He crossed his arms over the top of the seat, and looked at Archer thoughtfully.  His dark blue eyes seemed to dig into Archer uncomfortably, probing and prodding in a way the comforting tendrils hadn't. Merlin tilted his head.</p><p>"It is odd though; for such a spicy little personality, your mind is rather...cold.”</p><p>Archer glowered at him. “Thank you.”</p><p>Merlin shook his head. “Not in...thoughts, necessarily, just...in temperature?” he tilted his head further in bemusement. “There's no other word for it. Your thoughts are actually cold to the touch. I’ve never felt anything like it.”</p><p>“Go digging around in people's heads much?” Archer muttered and heaved himself to his feat.</p><p>Merlin scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t make a habit or barging in where I’m not wanted.” He gave Archer a significant look as Archer stepped around him to pick up his pack.</p><p>Archer pressed his lips together in a thin line as he swung it over his shoulder. He’d wasted an entire afternoon for this. His best hope at remembering something - anything- and...basically nothing. His face twisted, and he looked at the entrance of the tent.  </p><p>Merlin glanced at him, and tried to look away only to glance again. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling with an angry sneer, and stomped to his feet. “Oh, just hold on you sad sack.”</p><p>He stomped over to the chest sitting at the end of his bed and threw open the lid. “You absolute sucker, Merlin.” he grumbled.</p><p>He riffled through it, while Archer stared at his back in confusion. </p><p>“Aha!” Merlin crowed and held up a crystal. He inspected it with satisfaction. He glanced over at Archer and impatiently motioned for him to sit down. Archer blinked at him blankly. Merlin huffed and impatient got to his feet and ushered him back to his seat. </p><p>----------------<br/>Anyway:</p><p>Magic crystal the potential to search memories or something. Messes with crystal,  then guards start raiding the camp, searching for identification papers or something. Maybe magic users have to registered or something. </p><p>“Tell them that your friends with the constable! Call them off!” “Yeah, I...actually can’t. I’ve never met the man.” “Unbelievable!” </p><p>They run, with only two sacks and a crystal between them. Run to woods, travel for a bit. Merlin is depressed, Archer bites his lip and says…”want to come to camelot with me?” “Aw hell no.” </p><p>Merlin has a Past with Camelot. (He grew up with Arthur somehow, maybe Balinor is a noble, or took over Camelot after the revolution, food for thought.  Either way, Merlin grew up there, and has no intention whatsoever of going back. Why on earth would Archer want to go to that cesspool of drama?)</p><p>Archer gives him a small summery of why, wheedles that he’s going to need someone to help with the crystal, and he thinks that his family was wealthy (thinks he’s bluffing, jokes on him) and promises to compensate Merlin well. Merlin doesn't give a damn about that, since his family is already well off. He just joined the gypsies to get away from Camelot. </p><p>---------------<br/>Potential scene by the fire after they make camp in the woods:</p><p>Now, Merlin was about fifty-fifty on whether Archer was telling the truth or not. That pretty little blond head had lied to him before, and Merlin hadn’t survived this long by being a fool. </p><p>Not to mention, what did he have to gain by going back to that corrupt cesspool? Morgana’s letters had promised things were looking better under Balinor’s rule, but Merlin would believe that when he saw it - and he had no intention of seeing it anytime soon. </p><p>His father may have been forced to be...Camelot’s “guardian”, but that didn’t mean a thing. He still allowed mindless persecution of magicless folk.  Merlin missed his mother as much as his father did, that didn’t give either of them the right - </p><p>He bit the thought off. It didn’t matter now. Camelot wasn’t what it used to be, and there was no going back to it. </p><p>Arthur would have hated it. He hated it regardless, when the magic ban was still in place, but he would have abhorred what the city had become. Merlin missed him every day, but he took the smallest comfort that he’d never had to see it. </p><p>He glanced up at Archer, and mentally called the idiot what he was. He wouldn’t survive the trip to Camelot, much less find his family there. Whoever Archer was before everything happened, he was better buried and forgotten. He may have been a son of a small lord of duke back then, but as a magicless person now? He’d be better off staying on this side of the river. </p><p>Merlin shook his head with scoff. Honestly, go to Camelot. Merlin hadn’t been there in near ten years, and had barely looked back. There was nothing there for him, not anymore. </p><p>‘But.’ Merlin thought. ‘But.’</p><p>Helping Archer was what Arthur would have wanted, wasn’t it? Helping someone who clearly needed it? The idiot wouldn’t make it to Camelot on his own; much less survive once he got there. Not to mention…</p><p>He looked into the flames grimly. He could visit Arthur’s grave. He hadn’t fixed Arthur's grave in years.  He doubted Morgana was doing it. Morgana may think that Arthur was still out there, but Merlin knew better. He may have not found a body, but he'd seen Arthur fall into the river.  No one could have survived that, not even that stubborn brat. </p><p>He glanced up at Archer - and what kind of name was Archer, anyway - who looked...remarkably like him. He even wrinkled his nose like him when the brat got irritated.</p><p>But, no. He shook his head. He’d seen Arthur fall into that river.  No one could have survived that. Merlin had searched with Balinor for a week for him. He was gone, that was the end of it. </p><p>….He did miss him though. Maybe, just maybe, just a quick visit wouldn’t hurt. He should check that the grave was still in place, and fix whatever - he gritted his teeth - desecration the idiotic population had done. </p><p>‘Besides,’ he thought wryly, ‘Where else could I go?’</p><p>He sighed loudly and let himself fall backwards off the log. He could feel the leaves and sticks poking him through his thick cloak, but he couldn’t find it himself to give a damn.</p><p>“You alright over there?” Archer said.</p><p>Merlin groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He didn’t want to see whatever smug face the prat made. </p><p>“We leave in the morning. You better be packed.”</p><p>“What - really, great! But….um.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“We only have two sacks.”</p><p>“And you’d better not lose those.”<br/>---------<br/>In the morning they banked the fire and loaded their bags with their meager belongings. Merlin looked up, above the trees to the skyline slowly lighting with the promise of a new day. A day that promised nothing but aches - both in his head, and his heart.  He'd promised himself that he was going to move on - and here he was. Stepping back into the past. </p><p>He sighed. He’d never learn, would he?</p><p>He glanced back at the expectant Arthur - Archer. Archer was the one staring at him. Eyes wide and shining just like Arthur's had whenever he’d badgered Merlin to take him somewhere he shouldn’t go.</p><p>Merlin’s mouth twitched. Damn those blue eyes, and the blond hair, and crooked teeth, and - </p><p>He cut his thoughts off with a huff. He resolutely looked at Archer. </p><p>"Before we head out, there's someone we need to see."</p><p>Archer looked at him warily. "What on earth for? You're kind of wanted at the moment."</p><p>Merlin grimaced. "We need papers, and I know just the person to get them from. " he grimaced deeper. "Gods help us."</p><p>Archer looked even warier. "Who?"</p><p>"An old friend. You'll see. Just…" Merlin licked his lips as he glanced at him. He sighed, "...Be ready for a bear hug like no-other. He knew Arthur too. "</p><p>Archer felt himself shrink a bit at the comparison. "Ah."</p><p>"Yes, ah."</p><p>Merlin looked away, up at the cloudless late spring sky. His dark eyes were misty with an old pain. He shook his head and stooped to pick up his pack,</p><p>"Well come on then," He said, and swung it over his shoulder with a grin. "Those papers aren’t going to forge themselves."</p><p>He strode off, and Archer scrambled to scoop up his sack and run after his  ridiculously long legs.</p><p>"So, who exactly are we seeing?" Archer said. Merlin turned his head enough to smirk at him.</p><p>"The former head guard of Camelot."<br/>---------------------------------------------</p><p>They go to a middle-classish side of town. Merlin bids Archer to keep his mouth shut, and does a secret knock. They meet a suspicious Leon, Leon convinces Merlin to let him come along.  He doesn't like Merlin alone with this Arthur look-alike, and Merlin basically throws his hands up and says he can do what he wants, it seems no one listens to him anyways these days. (Plus Leon wants to see Morgana. They were sweethearts back in the day.) </p><p>(To be updated)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Merthur: The Princess Bride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What it says on the tin.  This one is a semi work in progress, I might actually try to finish it eventually.  What do you think?</p><p>Cast:<br/>Merlin as the dread pirate Roberts<br/>Arthur as buttercup<br/>Gwaine as inigo Montoya <br/>Percy as the giant <br/>Agravaine as Vicini</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once upon a time, Arthur lived on the edge of the kingdom for a good couple years to learn knighting or whatever when he was barely more than a boy, and met country bumpkin Merlin.  Maybe Merlin was a stable boy, or a farm hand, but the point was that he lived close enough for the two to get under each others feet. Constantly in each others way, pulling pig tails, and scolded more often than not for getting distracted and tussling when they had chores to complete. </p><p>Eventually, Merlin grows to respect Arthur's hard work and dedication, and Arthur begrudgingly appreciates Merlin's wit and insight.  (That he can exploit Merlin's magic to get his chores done faster is his only reason to get along, of course. Merlin's not even that pretty.)</p><p>Anyway, they fall in love with the “ass you wish” thing, because Merlin first only says it mockingly, whenever Arthur throws his status around, and then it actually means something.  They grow together, thick as thieves, until one day their time is up. </p><p>Maybe the law comes into play and Merlin has to leave the country, or Arthur completes his training so he has to go back to Camelot, or maybe both. Either way, they separate, and Merlin promised that he'd come to Camelot one day, after he's learned greater magics, and they’ll change the country for the better together. Arthur in turn promised to wait for him, however long it took.</p><p>They keep in contact as much as they can, but one day, Merlin's letters stop coming. </p><p>Then, after months of waiting, Arthur gets a message from a friend he'd sent to search for Merlin.  It turned out that a ship Merlin had been on was attacked by the Dread Sorcerer Emrys, and hadn't been seen since. It makes sense, of course; no one ever survives the attacks of Emrys.  The Dread Sorcerer  never takes prisoner.</p><p>Arthur was, of course devastated, and becomes a cold prat. He withdrew, and dedicated himself to his duties. When his father announced that Arthur was to be married to the princess from Mercia, Arthur said nothing.  It made no difference to him; he would never love again. </p><p>As the weeks went on, and the wedding drew nearer, Arthur took solace in his private hunting trips. It was the one time he could be away from it all: the knights, his father, the duties that threatened to swallow him whole with no one to pull him out.  The trips reminded him of his training days. Of the times when he would drag Merlin out of the sunny fields, and Merlin would give him baleful looks every time Arthur shot a rabbit.  Merlin would crinkle his nose in disgust, but would still skin and cook the meat for their dinner.  Merlin loved the taste of seasoned rabbit, however much he protested killing it. </p><p>Arthur never hunted rabbits anymore.</p><p>The week before the wedding, Arthur was in the woods stalking a stag when he was besieged by bandits. He defended himself valiantly, cutting off one the men's arms before he himself was hit on the head.  A man with wavy hair trussed him up, then a giant of a man hoisted Arthur over a horse. </p><p>When Arthur awoke, he found himself tied to the mast of a ship in the middle of the sea. He'd been kidnapped by the greasy haired Agravaine, who sought to have Arthur killed and Mercia blamed. Camelot and Mercia would go to war, Uther would die, and Agravaine would have his revenge. Revenge for what? Does that really matter? Take your pick. </p><p>Agravaine wasn't one to do the dirty work himself, so he'd hired roguish drunkard Gwaine, and the quiet but strong Percival to "assist" him. Gwain was there for the money, and Percival was following Gwaine.  </p><p>Arthur shouts and threatens and tries to escape, but not even he is bullheaded enough to want to be eaten by man eating eels. He decided to bide his time, and wait for an opportunity. Or, at least, to be away from eels. </p><p>The next morning, Gwain was drinking by the stern of the small ship when he spotted a boat following them. He pointed it out to Agravaine, who insisted it was "inconceivable" that anyone would know what they had done, and that such a small boat could follow.  </p><p>Arthur eyed the small boat from his place at the mast, and grimly thought that a sorcerer could. Especially one. </p><p>The boat sails ever closer, despite that lack of a good wind. </p><p>They make it to the cliffs of insanity, and Percival hauls them over the cliff. Agravaine cuts the rope just as the small boat moors beside theirs, and orders Gwain to stay behind in case the sailor had any funny tricks up his sleeve.  He has Percival hoist a struggling Arthur over his shoulder, and they leave Gwain at the cliff. </p><p>Gwain stares down over the cliff, and watches in amusement as the man in black stands at the bottom looking up, hands on his hips.  The man reaches up, and to Gwain's amazement, a thick vine grows out of the cliff's rock surface for the man to grab onto. He reaches again, and a higher one grows, and vine by vine the man begins to ascend the cliff.  </p><p>Gwain eagerly grips at the sword around his waist, and decides to call down.</p><p>(Dialogue from movie. Sorry not putting time into that yet.)</p><p>The man makes it to the top, they have a fight full of witty banter full of sword play and dirty magic tricks, and Gwain eventually loses. (scene can be added later, we all know how it goes) </p><p>The man follows the tracks, and eventually runs into Percival. Percival, being the civilized man he is, decides not to chuck rocks at his head and instead challenges him to a tussle. The man thinks for a moment, shakes his head, and with a flick of a hand Percival dropped like a stone.  The man in black didn't have time for a tussle he had no hope of winning fairly.</p><p>Arthur, meanwhile, was sitting on a boulder with a gagged and struggling Agravaine trussed up to a nearby oak.  Without his two "assistants" Agravaine was essentially useless, and once they'd been far enough from Percival's hiding spot, Arthur had drop kicked Agravaine and trussed him up better than Arthur had been.  Arthur needed to prove that there was a conspiracy to plunge Camelot into war, so what better idea was there than taking the master mind prisoner? Now, all Arthur had to do was drag him back to the boats, and head back to Camelot. </p><p>(Never mind he didn't really know how to sail; he'd figure that out when he got to it.) </p><p>But, he didn't head there immediately. Instead, he sat and waited for the man to catch up.  If the man managed to get past both a skilled swordsman and someone who could be confused for a giant, then he may very well be someone who Arthur would dearly love to have a chat with.  There weren’t many known sorcerers out there who could sail a small ship that quickly with little wind; but Arthur could name one in particular who was known for it.</p><p>(Is it a leap of logic? Perhaps. But plot) </p><p>The man eventually came into view, and Arthur sat there ready for him.  The man was dressed head to toe in black; with only his eyes and lower face visible to the apparent eye. </p><p>The man walked forward cautiously, and called out, "I see that you have little need of rescuing. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  The prince of Camelot would be trained enough to take down one greasy pig of a man."</p><p>Arthur said nothing, and the man drew closer.  Arthur eyed the sword in the man's belt, and the man stopped. He put his hands on his hips.</p><p>"Now, you wouldn’t be waiting for me to come close enough to steal  my sword, would you?  Considering I've come to help you, that would be a rather rude thing to do."</p><p>Arthur looked back up at his face, his face impassive.</p><p>"And why did you come to help me? Sorcerers are no longer welcome in Camelot. You gain nothing by helping me."</p><p>"Yes, I'm well aware of your father's new rule.  It's a stupid one, pointless.  You can no more erase magic from the world than you could erase the dirt from the earth. Move, dig, or displace all you like, but it will never be gone. Without it, there is literally nothing. But you don't understand that, do you?"</p><p>Arthur said nothing.  </p><p>The man huffed, and crossed his arms. "As for why I'm helping, lets just say I'm keeping a promise to someone I knew once. A foolish boy who thought quiet highly of you.  I can see that his assessment of you being a prattish arse was accurate."</p><p>Arthur's face darkened, and he stood. There was only one person who'd ever called him that, and that boy was dead.</p><p>"Don't you dare call me that, you treacherous piece of shit. I know who you are."</p><p>The man tilted his head, "Oh, and who am I, oh perceptive one?"</p><p>Arthur's head lowered, and he glared at the man with eyes that wished him worse than dead; wished him worse than his darkest nightmares. "You're the one who killed Merlin." </p><p>He launched himself at the man, who stood there stunned for a moment too long.  Arthur tackled him to the ground, and launched a fist at his masked face. The man barely blocked in time, and struggled to roll them over. Arthur didn't allow it, and threw shot after shot down at him. </p><p>A blast of magic blew him back, and he landed with an oof on the open field. He rolled onto his feet, and tried to launch himself again, only to find himself stuck in place. He tried to twitch and squirm, but his muscled were locked in place, unable to move.  </p><p>The man lay panting on the ground, arms spread and weary. </p><p>"Hate surprise attacks." He muttered. "Never get used to them." </p><p>He slowly sat up, and gazed at Arthur's snarling face. He scrutinized him, his dark blue eyes searching for something.  He wrapped his arms around a raised knee. </p><p>"You seem quiet upset about someone called Merlin.  You said he's dead?" </p><p>"Don’t act like you don't know. He was killed by the Dread Sorcerer Emrys, do you deny that you are him?" Arthur snapped.</p><p>The man pursed his lips, looking to the side thoughtfully. He was silent, then said, "No, I don't deny that I am him. </p><p> </p><p>(And that’s as far as I got.  To be updated, perhaps.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If I ever actually try to write them/ continue writing them/ finish them I'll put the links here.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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